


Cohesive work

by beautifulwhensarcastic



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, OT4, Polyamory, with a little bit of naughty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulwhensarcastic/pseuds/beautifulwhensarcastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A casual morning at the household of - what Bucky likes to call them - modern commandos. Pancakes and teasing, and table manners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cohesive work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carpooldragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpooldragons/gifts).



> I would apologize for the corny fluff, but I am not really sorry. Sometimes I make things too sweet, this is one of them :P Probably because I've written too much heavy, emotional stuff recently.

The almost-perfectly round shape flips in the air, landing softly on the heated pan. A graceful move, imitating a dance, which Steve watches in awe and with growing jealousy.

His gaze slides down to the hand holding the pan, skillful fingers so gently wrapped around the handle and limber wrist flicking smoothly, then up, Steve's breath hitching a little as the muscles in Sam's arm flex.

Sam is shirtless, which is a bloody unfair move. Despite all of the restraint Steve musters, his eyes shift downwards anyway, tracing the line of Sam's back and that delicate curve dipping right above his ass.

A crispy white fabric hangs low on his hips, rustling softly with his every move.

"You were supposed to watch my technique," Sam smirks, fully aware of where Steve's gaze is lingering at the moment, drawing his attention back upwards.

A faint blush spreads over his pale cheeks, though he tries to shrug nonchalantly. After all those years, not only of getting used to the 21st century, but exploring various levels of intimacy with his partners, Steve still blushes frequently. A fact which Sam absolutely adores.

Steve has brought freshness and innocence into his life, though God knows they've stumbled down more than one filthy road.

"I always preferred practice to theory," Steve leans on the counter, his face scrunching in a somewhat indignant pout.

The smile on Sam's face is indulgent, edging on a smirk as he retorts with amusement, "Uh-huh. We can see the result of your practice all right." He indicates the ceiling above the stove, where a greasy round spot stains the white paint.

Steve reddens even more, crossing his arms and mumbling about it being the serum's fault. He just didn't calculate the force with which he should flip the pancake without causing any damage, being too excited with his very first attempt at making one.

Sure, he ate them, often and a lot, but never made them. Well, not since he got bigger and stronger.

And this batch is exceptionally special, too. Sam's mum's recipe, with extra butter and orange zest. Steve couldn't help that he got a little carried away with the thought of learning to make them.

"The second one was better," Steve points out in self defense, glancing at the blue plate, where a thick pancake is placed. Too thick, too big, not exactly round. Right next to it is the orange plate with a stack of perfect delicacy.

"Mhm," Sam leans towards him, kissing his cheek and at the same time sliding the freshly made pancake off the pan onto the stack, "I’m sure it’s good."

Sam's hand travels down Steve's chest, skimming along the picture of a cartoon milk box with the words  _Drinking milk makes it bigger_  - a silly present from Nat, which Steve politely accepted, then wanted to burn. Unfortunately, he got outnumbered and gave in, keeping it.

No matter what they say, Steve for sure doesn't find it cute.

But he does like the way their eyes light up and the soft pecks they pepper across his face, punctuated with giggles.

The hand resting for a moment over Steve's thumping heart slides lower. Sam squeezes the solid forearm, then puts his hand on Steve's hip, fingertips pressing into the soft cotton of blue boxers.

He trails his lips along Steve's sturdy jaw, the regrowing stubble pleasantly scratching his lips, spreading a tingling sensation from his mouth all over his body. Sam leaves a line of small, wet pecks until he reaches that innocently parted, pink mouth.

The kiss merely blooms, ending abruptly before they deepen it, when a raspy voice interrupts them.

"What smells so good? I wanna eat it!" Bucky bears no hint of remorse as he enters the kitchen, arm in arm with a much quieter, softly smiling Peggy.

They are a sight, that's for sure.

Steve and Sam stare at them with mild surprise. Then again, the state in which they appear, is not that surprising at all.

Peggy's hair is damp, meaning she managed to take a shower before anyone noticed. Trickles of water drip down, leaving wet spots on the white T-shirt, covering her body. It's one of Steve's, definitely too big for her, but still ending at a strategic point, barely covering the curve of her butt. Which gives them a nice peek at her polka dot panties.

The warmth spreading in Steve's belly, when he sees her, hasn't ceased even a bit since 1942, making him feel utterly love struck.

And when she's wearing some of his clothes, it does weird things to his brain, to his heart too for that matter, but he still hasn't figured out why exactly. All he knows is that he wants to hold her close, shielding her within his arms, as well as undress her.

Speaking of which... Bucky is completely naked.

Scratching his head with a yawn, ruffling his already disheveled hair, he waddles past Peggy to inspect the source of the delicious smell that drew him out of the bed.

"You forgot something, Bucky," Steve clears his throat, his voice slightly cracking, when James snuggles close to him and Sam, and pushes his head between theirs to take a look at the pancakes.

He takes a deep whiff, moaning loudly with delight. That sound instantly makes the other three tense, thoughts too easily running towards less appropriate moments.

Steve helplessly looks at Peggy, as if she's able to save them from diving head straight into the gutter. However, it takes a moment for her to even look up, she's staring at Bucky's ass. But when she finally meets Steve's gaze, she only rolls her eyes.

There's no doubt the bastard did it on purpose.

His right hand easily lands atop Sam's on Steve's hip, the other shamelessly moves up Sam's chest, resting on his shoulder. Though it's all playful and they've been quite rough with each other more than once, Bucky minds his metal arm and carefully presses the artificial digits into Sam's dark skin.

After a moment, he steps back, grinning unabashedly. The twinkle in his eyes, which Steve knows all too well, indicates the upcoming stupid thing he's going to say.

"I came bearing gifts!" James shakes his hips. His grin broadens, when all three of his companions groan in unison.

"Decency is not among them," Peggy retorts, sitting on a chair by the round, wooden table.

It's not big, but fits the four of them and they really don't need more. In Peggy's opinion, it is more than enough. Her fingers always skim over the surface with care and respect, considering it's a piece of furniture Bucky and Sam carved. Following Steve's design, which was inspired by the table in his home, before the war. They made it for her, because earlier this kitchen lacked any table and Peggy always felt like they should have one.  

She reaches for the pot of freshly made hot tea, casting a thankful glance in Sam's direction. She pours herself a big mug, then holds it in two hands, lifting it up to her lips with a blissful smile.

"Oh, please," Bucky swiftly turns around and walks over to take a seat next to her, "You know you like it dirty, Carter."

Instead of rolling her eyes at him and ignoring the comment, or blushing at the suggestion, Peggy shrugs and takes another sip of her tea, then replies simply, "Sometimes I do."

"Look what the twenty-first century did to the three goody fossils," Sam laughs, his smile genuine as he looks at them.

It really is quite amazing how well they adapt, though not without strong, repulsed opinions on some of the modern habits. And while he teases them about the reserved approach towards sex, it's completely untrue. When it comes to intimacy, they tend to be surprisingly creative and uninhibited.

"Are we going to eat breakfast, or talk about sex?" Peggy quirks her brow, "Because if it’s the latter, then we're moving this party back to the bed and this time I'm on top."

Three pairs of eyes fixating on her in an instant, indicate how tempting her suggestion is and for a moment she suspects someone is going to jump at the idea.

Steve's pupils widen and his gaze slowly lowers to where the shirt is rolled around her hips, a hickey on the inside of her thigh reminding him of the sweet taste of her lingering on his tongue.

He stays focused on her even as Sam breaks the silence with a slightly breathless, "Breakfast."

Before Peggy snorts, he's bringing the plates, as well as maple syrup and a bottle of a thick, rich chocolate syrup, which Bucky likes so much.

Sam nudges Steve, who seems to have kind of lost it for a second, shaking his head at the familiar blush spreading on Rogers' face.

"We made pancakes," Steve finally croaks out, pink reaching the tips of his ears as all three look at him with fond smiles. At Bucky's raised brows, he admits sheepishly, "Well, uh... I made this one," he points at the lonely cake orb.

It's a quick move, almost a split of a second, and before James even picks his fork, Peggy has got that pancake on her plate.

Sam bursts out laughing, which increases when Bucky pouts and Steve beams up so hard, that the smile almost tears his face in half.

For Sam it's still quite astonishing, how hungry all three of them seem at times and how much food they can stuff themselves with. The serum filling their cells is probably the main cause, they have figured as much, but even with the understanding of that quick metabolism it still tends to surprise him. Pouring himself a glass of juice, Sam just watches them for a moment.

However amusing, it also brings a pang of sadness, seeing them grab the next pancake even before the previous one is eaten. The serum is one thing, but he knows there's also the survival instinct in it.

Back in the 30's and 40's, they lived in rather poor conditions, especially Steve and James, having to eat whatever there was at the moment, sometimes going through days with no food at all. During the war it hadn't been any better.

His heart clenches every time when he remembers Peggy telling him how Steve used to give his own rations to her and Bucky, or the other commandos.

Now there's no fear of the hunger, but the habit of eating as much, whenever it's possible, in case the next days come empty, still lingers.

It's only when Steve lifts his head up and looks at him a little concerned, undoubtedly noting Sam's shift in mood, that Sam smiles and winks at him. Taking a long gulp of juice, he finally reaches for a portion of a breakfast for himself.

"You okay?" Steve can’t help asking.

Momentarily, the other two look up too, eyes darkening with worry.

The calm, reassuring reply gets stuck in the back of Sam's throat for a moment. It's been great to have Steve caring for him, especially considering for a long time Sam has provided tenderness and help for others, but not getting it from anyone. With Steve, his security grew stronger.

Then James and Peggy appeared in his life as well, and the amount of care and love they give him is sometimes overwhelming.

Sure, it wasn't always perfect. In the beginning there had been a lot of pushing and pulling in this dynamic, even more insecurities taking over their actions. Thankfully it unfolded. They grew in this relationship and now losing even one element seems terrifying.

"I'm fine, babe," Sam assures and adds, "Got a little distracted with your savage eating habits."

While Peggy is chewing slowly, only some crumbs on her plate, Steve’s and Bucky's are a picture of mess. Their faces too. Bucky's mouth is covered in the chocolate sauce, drops of maple syrup dribble down Steve's chin.

" 'M nosvge," James mumbles with his mouth full, which instantly elicits a reaction from Peggy, reminding him not to talk while he's chewing. To which he responds with an eager, "Yes, ma'am," and stuffs another piece of a pancake into his mouth.

He winks at Sam and the smile, which Sam wants to reciprocate, turns wicked, as he moves his foot up Sam's calf.

Not being one to just sit and wait, Sam sneaks his own hand under the table, moving it up Bucky's bare thigh. Reaching up high, until James chokes on a bite, when it becomes too close. They stare at each other, mischievous twinkles in Sam's eyes matching the dangerous glint in James' blue irises.

The touch, however evidently sexual at the moment, always evokes more than arousal in Bucky.

For the first few months, since he broke from the haze of internalized orders, the chaos of anger-twisted images embroidered in his head mixing with the real memories, any physical contact seemed like a threat. Then he had reached a bitter bottom of feeling useless, because he wanted them to touch him, to comfort him, but he was the one pushing them away. When he was finally able to withstand the hugs and soft stroking, James began craving physical closeness in all its forms.

The dirtiest things they could do in the bedroom, or any other surfaces for that matter, but along with that desire there's a warmer, deeper emotion stirring.

A sudden sound of melodic mirth, followed by some shuffling, draws Sam and Bucky's attention.

Peggy, who apparently tried to help Steve wipe the sticky smudges from his chin, stands up to get closer to him and do it properly. At least as much as he allows her, trying to duck and catching her hands. Peggy's laughing now, calling him a goof and squealing a little, when he pulls her into his lap, tips her over and kisses her soundly, smearing all of the sticky syrup over her mouth as well.

"You two, behave at the table," Sam mock-scolds them, which results in a few short snickers, quickly muffled by a second kiss.

Beside him, Bucky snorts. "You're the one to talk about table manners," he looks at Sam pointedly, left corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

Not more than a week ago, he and Steve had walked in on Peggy sprawled on the kitchen table, Sam's head between her thighs - they were supposed have been making dinner.    

"Want some of the table manners too, huh?" Sam grins, nodding his head approvingly and patting Bucky's bare thigh. It's all back to ridiculous playfulness now, especially when he starts swaying his body to the hummed Marvin Gaye tune, which causes James to roll his eyes, though his lips spread in a wide smile.

"And you say  _I_  am the one with bad pick up lines," he snorts, poking Sam's calf with his foot, toes wiggling into the warm skin.

"You are," Sam's mirthful retort synchronizes with the breathless, raspy ones, all three grinning at James.

Bucky frowns and crosses his arms, attempting to pin each of them with a stern, indignant look. It's hard, considering their radiant smiles and utterly disheveled state.

There's a hickey on Sam's neck, which becomes even more visible as he tilts his head, and a faint print of teeth right above his collarbone. Peggy, now sitting on Steve's lap, has glistening smudges of golden syrup on her chin. Steve's fingers twist into her hips, soft cotton fabric rolled up, revealing panties and the curve of her belly.

Putting on a smug face, James gives them all a once-over, announcing with an unmasked satisfaction, "And you all look thoroughly fucked."

"And you want to claim it as your own success?" Peggy arches slightly, nipples hard, visible through the thin fabric of the white T-shirt.

"Nah," Bucky wipes the chocolate sauce from the corner of his mouth with a thumb, then sucks on it lightly, "It's cohesive work. Which I very much like."

He tries not to blush, when their looks soften. There's still that stubborn streak within, wanting to shrug at any display of tender emotion. With Sam leaning closer, reaching his hand to rest on Bucky's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, it's impossible to hide it much longer. A smile, unlike any smirk or grin he has served this morning so far, graces his lips. And it evokes mirroring ones on their faces.

"We like it very much too, Buck," Steve says, catching his gaze and holding it. The echo of words, so well-known, resounding in his head,  _I’m with you till the end of the line._

"More than like," Peggy stresses. Though she seems to be mirroring some of Bucky's attempts at keeping emotions at bay, considering the times might have changed in many aspects, but not when it comes to treating women with respect - still being judged as weaker, because of displayed emotions; she never guards her words when with them.

In their home she is the one making sure they say it without any doubts.

"We  _love_  it," Sam finishes for her, affectionately touching Bucky’s cheek.


End file.
